


Exhausted

by irishgirlE



Category: Charmed (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-15 17:43:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15418209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishgirlE/pseuds/irishgirlE
Summary: The night was dark. The sky had long since turned black. The lights the dotted the skyline were gradually extinguished as more and more people went to sleep. But not everyone.Chris orbed up to the golden gate bridge. As soon as he arrived, his legs gave out and he slumped to the ground with a muffled groan. He was so tired. But he couldn't sleep, not yet.





	Exhausted

The night was dark. The sky had long since turned black. The lights the dotted the skyline were gradually extinguished as more and more people went to sleep. But not everyone.  
Chris orbed up to the golden gate bridge. As soon as he arrived, his legs gave out and he slumped to the ground with a muffled groan. He was so tired. But he couldn't sleep, not yet.

There were still demons to be fought, vanquished, interrogated. Wyatt might still turn evil. Chris might still fail. He couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t let his future – his past, his life – happen.

Chris was reminded of that everything he closed his eyes. Each time he so much as blinked he saw the dead stares of all those that he had lost, of all those that he had loved.

Everyone he'd ever cared about was dead.

Or, they will be dead, eventually, when his past – the future – takes place.

Chris closed his eyes, his tired mind started to ache as he tried to wrap his head around time travel. The few allies that had known of Chris’ plan had warned him about the effects of time travel, the dangers, the consequences, but they hadn’t mentioned the headaches that would follow. He was sure that they were from trying to fathom the impossible, and not some physical malady. Unless they were from his exhaustion.

Chris rested his head against the cool metal of the bridge. Up this high, there was always a chill. The metal was always cold. Wind whipped around him, chilling him to the core, but he was too tired to care.

The bridge had collapsed at some point during Wyatt’s reign. Chris couldn’t remember the exact date. But, before that, he had still orbed up there to think, to relax, to be safe. He had hidden there, licked his wounds and, occasionally, planned out raids or attacks.

If Chris were a paranoid man, he would suspect that Wyatt had deliberately destroyed the bridge to get at his brother. Chris was a paranoid man. Wyatt had certainly known that Chris liked the bridge.

It reminded him of his father and, as much as Chris hated him, he still wanted his love and attention. Not that he would ever receive it. Not unless he threw himself from the bridge. And possibly not even then.

Chris stretched his legs out on the ground. He was sitting up, but the cold had numbed him. He didn’t notice if he was uncomfortable. He probably wasn’t though. He had slept in worse places than this. He knew that from previous experience.

Chris closed his eyes and tried to imagine that he was a moody teenager again and he had had a petty fight with his brother, or maybe Leo. He tried to pretend that he would only stay here a few hours until he calmed down, and then he would return home to his loving mother and brother.

Slowly, Chris’ breaths slowed and even out as he fell asleep.

 

 

* * *

 

Leo orbed up to the golden gate bridge. Almost immediately, he noticed that he wasn't alone.

Chris was sitting, propped up against the pole. For a moment, Leo’s heart stopped at the lack of movement from the witchlighter. Then, Chris exhaled, and Leo sighed in relief.  
However, his relief returned to worry as he inspected Chris further.

His position looked fairly uncomfortable and, even though the witchlighter rarely took his own health into consideration, Leo doubted that Chris had planned on sleeping on the Bridge. Not if the dark shadows sticking out against his pale face were anything to go by.

Leo was far from Chris’ biggest fan, but he felt for him. Chris was young, and sometimes, sometime being now, he stirred Leo’s paternal instincts. He knelt beside the sleeping figure and gently shook him, calling out Chris’ name as he did so.

"Mhhhnnmm… five more minutes, Mom," Chris mumbled, turning his head away from Leo.

Leo chuckled. It was a lot like trying to wake Wyatt. "C'mon buddy, you can't stay out in the cold,” he prompted.

Leo grabbed Chris' hands to try pull him to his feet, but he retracted his hand immediately at the coldness of Chris’ skin. He had touched dead things that weren’t as cold.

On further inspection, he noticed how sick Chris looked. If he had to guess, it was likely from spending every waking minute dedicated to saving Wyatt.

Leo’s field medicine hadn’t included illnesses, but he was sure that Chris would get a fever fairly quickly unless he was careful. In a move that surprised him, he reached forward and brushed the hair away from Chris’ forehead. Chris sighed and leaned into the touch. He could already feel the fever starting to take hold of Chris' weak body.

Leo spared a second to wonder. Chris didn’t have many – any – friends in the present. He spent most of his time arguing with the sisters or fighting demons. It didn’t leave much time for socialising, but it didn’t leave much time for human contact. He wondered when the last time was that someone touched Chris in an affectionate or caring way. Or just for the sake of contact.

Leo quickly orbed them to back room in P3, lying Chris down on the couch. Chris mumbled something unintelligible. He wasn’t quite awake, but the orbing had caused him to stir.

Leo tried to pull away, but Chris burrowed his head into Leo's chest. He sighed, amused.

Chris didn’t seem like he wanted him to go, so he shifted until Chris’ head was resting in his lap. Leo pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over him. He found himself running his fingers through the younger man's hair. Chris sighed softly in content. Leo smiled, Chris would hate this when he woke up.

As the dawn began to break Chris grew restless. He mumbled in his sleep and began to thrash. Leo wasn’t sure what to do. He tried to comfort him, but it didn’t seem to help. When Chris started crying and softly calling out to his mom, Leo's heart broke a little.

He might not like Chris, but the witchlighter had mentioned that he was without family in his own time-period. Chris’ mother was dead. Considering the future that Chris described, Leo was willing to believe that Chris had reasons for being how he was.

Leo pulled Chris closer again, like he did with Wyatt. His ear was pressed against his heart and somehow that calmed him. Leo wondered about that. His heartbeat comforted Chris? Had he ever even been hugged before?

If Chris had reasons for being so cold and closed off it, was obvious that they were because he hadn't had anyone to care about, or who cared about him, for a while.

 _Maybe he did._ Leo thought. _Life is cruel._ Leo felt a rush of pity for the young man.

When morning finally came, Chris started to stir. His eyes fluttered open. He croaked out something before clearing his throat.

"Leo, wha… what are you doing here?"

"What were you doing passed out on top of the bridge?" he countered, firmly but gently.

"Sorry," Chris apologised sheepishly. To Leo’s surprise, it didn’t sound sarcastic or angry. Chris must be more warn out than he had thought.

"You don't need to apologise, you need to sleep,” Leo stated.

"'Kay," Chris answered. His eyes were already closing and soon his breathes evened out. Soft snores escaped him.

Leo smiled. "Sleep well, kiddo".

**Author's Note:**

> This is an edited version of a fic I posted on fanfiction.net in November 2013, under the same user name. So, if this seems familiar to anyone that might be because you've read it before.


End file.
